Rosie Pendlewick
 | |
| Euphrosine Pendlewick | |
|---|---|
| Biographical Information | |
| Born | 4 December 1985, 32 |
| City of Birth | Hogsmeade |
| Current City | Hogsmeade |
| Blood status | Half-blood |
| Also known as | Rosie |
| Physical Information | |
| Gender | female |
| Height | 5'11" |
| Hair Colour | blonde |
| Eye Colour | blue |
| Skin Colour | pale and freckly |
| Relationships | |
| Father | Ebeneezer Pendlewick |
| Mother | Clementine McFaggle-Pendlewick |
| Magical Characteristics | |
| Wand(s) | |
| |
| Boggart | Hungarian Horntail |
| Patronus | unknown - too advanced magic for her |
| Special Abilities | Seer |
| Education | |
| School | Hogwarts |
| House | Gryffindor |
| Class of | 2004 |
| Occupation | |
| |
| Character Information | |
| Playby | Emilie de Ravin |
| Dlee | |
Waitress at the Three Broomsticks and clerk at Honeydukes.
Summary
Rosie Pendlewick is a breezy, cheerful, chatterbox with a terrible memory, a vivid imagination, and more left feet than a millipede. Insatiably curious and more than a tad gullible, her forgetfulness and complete lack of guile masks a fairly insightful, if simple mind. Clumsy, nosy, periodically tactless, and more or less impossible to shut up or keep on subject. Rosie's saving grace is her genuine warmth and kindness, and her really, really good pumpkinbat scones. Rosie knows she's no great witch, but she also knows that she is good at what she chooses to do, and most importantly, knows that she's happy in and with her life, and she won't let anyone belittle or look down on that happiness, however unassuming and plebian it may appear to them.
Seer
The Pendlewicks—her father's side—are an old family, and Rosie has unknowingly inherited a trait that's popped up every seven or so generations in their blood. It's strong, but there's a very simple reason why it hasn't attracted particular undue notice—her Sight tends to manifest looking backwards, which is both uninspiring and unlikely to be recognized in the traditional means of Divination. Triggered mostly by objects and always by touch, Rosie can See where they were in the past, who held them, what happened to them and where. Every so rarely, she gets a Vision of what that object will do, where it may be and with whom, in the future. She has done so twice so far in her life (and point of interest, the first was when she was a child, with her father while he came to deliver a batch of cauldrons to the proprietor of the Hog’s Head Inn, when she brushed a hand against the frame of a portrait of a pretty young girl, but there was no one to hear it but the portrait, and it was eventually smashed a few years later in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries.
The Pendlewick Sight is tied inextricably to memory (described below), and Rosie's was blown apart, which effectively had the result of searing off the 'eyelid', as it were. It is one of the greatest contributors to her inability to focus—her mind is constantly doing two things, attempting to do whatever conscious task, and Looking, unconsciously (or trying to). As a somewhat backwards advantage of this, she's built up quite the mental stamina, and Seeing doesn't exhaust her. At the same time, because the Sight is in such constant use, there are no reserves for her to draw upon or focus, and hence no controlled vision. She Sees what she gets, and doesn't See what she doesn't. No filter, no control.
There were places at Hogwarts that Rosie avoided like the plague—though she didn't remember or know why--because they summoned up visions of the Battle, and at least once she had nightmares for a week about a great, fanged and scaly beast slithering through the walls after brushing against a faucet, which her housemates put down to a classmate telling stories about the Chamber of Secrets.
It's completely involuntary. She goes into a trance, her mind transports to the time and place, and she will describe everything she sees aloud (whether there is someone to listen or not) though she will have absolutely no recognition of having done so alter the moment has passed. Her voice doesn’t change, and the vision’s length can be so brief she says nothing at all, a few words, or nearly a full paragraph. If it’s more than a sentence or two, she does get tired. On the rare, rare occasions she gets a vision of the Future and not the past, her descriptions (literal and vivid of the past) become cryptic and portentous in the manner of traditional Seers. Mostly she just rambles cheerfully about how happy the sheep that made your nice cloak was to be sheared at LAST that twig was getting terribly annoying and people go ahaha how silly.
